Fractions of Eternity
by Salysha
Summary: It's the clubbing scene, and Jin and Hwoarang are all over each other, openly... Slash, yaoi, Jin/Hwoarang.
1. The Clubbing Scene

**Disclaimer**: Tekken and Tekken characters are the property of Namco Limited. This is nonprofit fan fiction.

**Warnings**: This features m/m slash and yaoi, which means that two men are portrayed in a romantic, physical relationship. If that bothers you, skip this story and read something you are comfortable with. This story contains erotic scenes and is rated M.

**Pairings**: Jin/Hwoarang

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**Fractions of Eternity**

by Salysha

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**Chapter 1**  
_The Clubbing Scene_

The music was addictive. The artist and the lyrics were inconsequential; it was the compelling beat that drove the clubbers to oblivion and lured them to the dance floor, packed already and still accepting newcomers.

One couple stood out from the rest. They were dressed to the occasion: both had dark pants and button-up shirts, which were uncuffed and open just enough to spell "casual elegance" in capital letters. Both had the looks; neither had a hair out of place despite the heat that climbed up in the sultry club. Both were positively radiant.

And both were men.

"I didn't know they were that open," Julia said. The beat, though less piercing on the elevated landing where their table was, forced her to shout over the volume, and raising her voice made her uncomfortable. Still, she gave Jin and Hwoarang another look before returning to her drink.

"They look good," Xiaoyu observed. She shared none of Julia's unease, but seemed at home, enjoying her drink happily. Yet, not even she could look away from the couple that shone through the crowd.

Julia fidgeted in her seat until she focused on the tall glass in Xiaoyu's hands. "Are you even old enough to drink?"

"Talk to the band."

"It's 'hand'...," Julia tried, but Xiao's attentions were back on the dance floor. Julia sighed. She knew Xiao didn't do it on purpose, but could she even try to be as down as Julia was amid all these people who were drinking and partying and having a happy time...?

"Hey, we should go dancing. I bet you're a great dancer! Your fighting style is so pretty..."

Somehow, Xiao managed to speak complicated sentences and convey thoughts intelligibly, when Julia barely managed a few words over the music. Even then, Xiaoyu asked her to repeat most of the time. The offhand compliment made her smile, though. How did someone manage to say nice things like that and lift the spirits of others so effortlessly? Shouldn't it take concentration and be harder?

Christie was the one with the pretty fighting style. Hers was a mutt. Julia wanted to pick the drink and enjoy another gulp of processed ethanol—sweet, pungent ethanol, the name of which she didn't know, since Xiao had ordered in her stead, and she couldn't recognize the drink off the tip of her tongue. She chuckled at herself wanly. _Nice pun, Julia. Keep it up._ She couldn't be as positive as Xiaoyu; she didn't have a boyfriend to go home to. She should make linguistics her next hobby, since she wasn't cut for fighting. She gulped. She'd lost, and that meant... She blinked back the tears. She wouldn't think what it meant, not for one night.

On the dance floor, the couple du jour were oblivious to the interest of their fellow fighters. Hip to hip, mouth to mouth, Jin and Hwoarang kept dancing the dance that hadn't changed in tune with the songs.

"Mmm...," a throaty murmur of appreciation escaped from Hwoarang when their mouths disconnected momentarily. Though sober, he felt intoxicated. Jin pulled back at arm's length—the precise measure Hwoarang's arms, holding him by the waist, allowed. Jin's eyes shone in the darkness as he gazed in Hwoarang's eyes wordlessly, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome was illuminant tonight, even as he leaned back in and met the pair of lips that had missed the contact already. No one cared about the noise they made, sharing one kiss after another. No one else existed in their world.

Little by little, they made their way over to a wall, weaving their way through the dancing couples, whose bumps and ensuing apologies they barely noticed. They reached the wall side eventually, to find the point of no backing down. Jin pressed Hwoarang against the wall. Hwoarang drank in Jin's strength, a match to his own, and the attention those luscious lips gave as they traced down his neck and onto his collarbone. There, they abruptly broke the contact, only to return to his lips.

Hwoarang leaned on the wall, and his hands traced down Jin's back until they reached his ass. He pulled Jin against him, and their crotches ground against one another almost painfully. He could _feel _Jin through his slacks. Judging by the faint gasp Jin gave before diving onto him again, his hips now purposely rubbing against his, he knew Jin felt him, too.

Back at the table, Julia played with the colorful umbrella she had received with her latest drink. She suspected Xiaoyu had something to do with its appearance, unless the Japanese had their beer with cocktail umbrellas. How Xiaoyu had gotten in and how she was the one getting all their drinks over at the counter where age checks should have applied, she didn't know. That girl was as resourceful as they came.

Her gaze drifted to the dance floor, seeking for the familiar pair, though she knew she was only rubbing salt in the wounds.

They had changed positions now. Hwoarang was resting against Jin, his head flung backward, his backside glued to Jin's front. Jin's hands lay firmly on his upper thighs, his fingers pointing to the inner thigh. Though chaste, the hands would have drifted down easily, had they been in private. Jin was leaning forward, nuzzling Hwoarang's neck, his visage hidden beneath the dark bangs.

"You shouldn't feel bad about them."

Julia was about to reproach herself mentally, but then she realized it wasn't Xiaoyu's voice admonishing her in a waking dream; it was Xiaoyu herself who had fetched a curiously bubbly, green—_green?_—drink for herself from the bar and now perched across from her.

Julia shook herself, even as her gaze darted over to the dance floor. Where had they gone? Xiaoyu stared at her intently, and Julia forced herself to pay attention, even if she wanted to mope and feel sorry for herself, despite the earlier resolve.

"No, that's not it. I mean..." Julia drifted off. Xiaoyu's fixed stare was making her uncomfortable. Was she just being petty? No happiness for her, none for others? A little closed-minded, maybe? Julia tugged at her braid miserably. Two of the most delectable men at the tournament had found each other, of all people... Julia looked over at the dance floor and made out two heads of hair zigzagging through the crowd, a blazing red in tow with the shining black.

"You shouldn't feel bad," Xiaoyu repeated. "It's their last night."

"What?"

"Didn't you know? They're fighting each other in the morning."

**To Be Continued...**

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**Stellar thanks** to **Gypsie** (Gypsie Rose) for the proofreading!

**Revised** April 26, 2009.  
**Published** March 9, 2009.


	2. The Sex Scene

Thanks to all readers and reviewers! Your interest has been a veritable pleasure. Now, put down the rocks... and the pitchforks... and the knives, too. Let's not cast any stones or shoot daggers. The update is here—many thanks for waiting up! The story warnings for mature m/m content apply. **Edit 9/5/09**: Thanks to **HappyMe-O** for the heads-up! Fixed the problem with Hwoarang removing his shoes twice.

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**Chapter 2  
**_The Sex Scene_

They made it to the street outside the club, where the night breeze greeted them. The exit they had taken led them off the main entrance, where a deliriously long line of party-goers awaited admittance. The main excitement was there, taking form in a battle between bouncers and a festive party, who were out for justice for what they deemed too much of a wait—one about to turn indefinite. Out here, they were relatively private and suddenly without the shield of the public eye. It was just the two of them now.

"So...," Hwoarang said, prying his eyes away from a fight waiting to happen. The adrenaline rush had worthier targets than a drunken brawl, even if one would have been a pleasant prospect at another time. He looked at Jin and instantly spotted that Jin was holding his jacket so that it landed below the waist. He smirked a little and let his gaze drift down and transfix on a spot.

"Will you quit staring!" Jin was flushed. His expression softened minutely at Hwoarang's obvious interest. He shifted on his feet and planted his jacket firmly in front of his groin. "We could have gotten thrown out. This is embarrassing..."

"I'd say it's hot," Hwoarang said breezily. He took mercy and, after casting a sly look, pretended to study the surroundings.

Eventually, Jin settled and pulled himself upright. "Now, where were we?"

All business and self-possession: Hwoarang dared say he found the recovery admirable and diminishing Jin's attractiveness none. "I think it was 'so'..."

"So...," Jin echoed, and that faint, enigmatic smile crossed his lips as he undressed Hwoarang with his eyes and let the redhead know he was doing it, too. "I'm not staying far away."

It was a win-win proposal, if ever there was any. "Sounds good," Hwoarang said in a low voice.

"Shall we?"

They took down the alley away from the crowd until the privacy became real and the commotion from the club faded away. The dark was stimulating... Just a briefest look right and left warned Hwoarang, until Jin dipped his head and leaned in for a kiss, a promise, and another taste of what was about to come, and any doubt washed away. Jin broke the kiss off before it got too arousing. A smile ghosted his countenance briefly before he faced the direction they had been heading to and beckoned Hwoarang to follow him.

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They made it to Jin's hotel without a hitch and to his room without prying eyes. It was disappointingly easy, really. Jin stowed the key card away and secured the door after flipping the lights on. "Make yourself at home. Supplies are in the bedside drawer," he said casually before disappearing into the bathroom.

Hwoarang rid himself of his shoes and took the room in. It was a nice place; not too heavy on the money side, but it was cozy and in good order. It had a welcoming feel, further amplified by the royal red curtains and the earthy tones of the décor.

The standard amenities were there: a made bed—which Hwoarang measured with his eyes and deemed more promising than the one in his hotel—a TV, a bulky credenza that supported the TV and housed an assemble of drawers, a table with chairs, and some cupboards. The second bed in the room was untouched and had a coverlet draped over it.

What was that about a bedside drawer? The table came in Hwoarang's line of sight, and he sauntered over to it. He had half expected to find something kinky, but it was just a deposit of necessities. The corners of Hwoarang's mouth twitched as he ran a hand through the selection and pulled out a couple of packages and the bottle as well and placed them on the table in clear view. He stretched himself with a hearty yawn and then propped himself up, sitting on the credenza beside the TV. The piece of furniture was made of good, solid wood that supported his weight easily.

"Can I get you anything?" Jin's voice came from the other room.

"It's a nice place," Hwoarang said approvingly. "And no, thanks. I'm good."

Jin emerged into the living room then, smelling of a fresh mixture of soap, mint, and deodorant. He had gotten rid of the jacket and shoes and, apparently, shirt, as well. He looked edible in his dark slacks and skin-hugging white undershirt that revealed his form in lustful detail, from the bare arms and the well-formed chest to the narrowed waist. He spotted Hwoarang sitting on the credenza with the faintest flash of amusement and a more discernible look of satisfaction. "All good?" he confirmed.

"All good," Hwoarang drawled.

"Good."

Hwoarang could feel Jin's smile as he drew near and seized his lips into a kiss. This was nice. _Very nice._ Hwoarang couldn't help grinning into the kiss himself as he pushed back and tilted his head to deepen the contact.

He seated himself better as Jin pressed on, exploring his mouth with his tongue slowly. Hwoarang's brought his fingers to own his shirt and started undoing it from the collar down. As he went, Jin eased the shirt down for him. It slid to Hwoarang's shoulders and revealed more of his chest with each undone button. Jin's lips left Hwoarang's mouth and explored down the side of his neck like they had all the time in the world. He landed on Hwoarang's collarbone and sucked at the tender spot lightly. His hands never left the edges of the shirt as he continued to ease it down and reveal the chrome red tank top underneath. Hwoarang threw his head back and forcibly stopped himself from gurgling in pleasure as the luscious mouth traced the underside of his chin, down to the neckline of the top, and then began to journey up again.

Hwoarang let himself be trapped willingly in his shirt when the sleeves fell down and his hands remained in them. Jin grabbed the back of Hwoarang's neck and ravished his mouth, while his other hand kept tracing a line down the top and feeling Hwoarang's washboard stomach.

Jin finally let go of his mouth and straightened his head with a quick peck on the lips. A self-possessed smile graced his lips when he brought his hands down on Hwoarang's thighs purposely, rubbing up and down on them. Suddenly, he pulled them wide apart, placing himself in the middle deliberately, and pulled Hwoarang closer to his crotch from below the waist.

_Smooth, Kazama._ Hwoarang smirked; he liked Jin's nerve, though he wasn't about to give in that easily. "What makes you think that's the way it's gonna be?"

Jin gave a cryptic smile of his and leaned in to brush their lips together. His right hand, however, found another trail. Palm to Hwoarang's stomach, he let it slide over the waistband of the Korean's pants and all the way down as far the he could manage, until the ball of his hand hit the table. His palm curled around the package there, squeezing softly. "I'll make it worth your while," he said, his voice low.

There was nothing but raw desire and seduction in his being when he looked at his hand, which was squeezing Hwoarang's genitals through the fabric. He raised his eyes slowly to meet Hwoarang's, and flicked his tongue on his lower lip expressly. Hwoarang groaned. Kazama would be his undoing.

Jin detached himself. "Wash up?" he suggested and ran his fingers over Hwoarang's fly.

Hwoarang nodded. "Yeah." He dropped off the credenza and onto his feet, and landed crotch-to-crotch with Jin, who hadn't budged out of his way.

With a knowing smile, Jin touched his lips across his briefly and brushed his behind with his hand before stepping back and giving him room to move. "Use anything that isn't mine. And hurry back, won't you?" Jin murmured and cast a significant glance at the items atop the bedside table.

_Hell, yeah. _A smirk tucked at Hwoarang's lips as he promised to try. He placed the shirt on the back of a chair in a neat fold. He could feel the heated gaze following his backside every step down.

The adjoined bathroom was tidy, and Jin's things melted into it neatly. Hwoarang's rod was already half at attention as he washed it carefully, as per request. He tucked himself back in and checked in the mirror that the rest of him looked decent.

He washed his arms and face. After a brief pondering, he grabbed one of the face towels off the towel rack, soaked it in water, and gave his neck a quick wipe. Hwoarang supposed he and Kazama could have started off with a joint shower, but if Kazama wanted to make it a chase, he was game. He flung the towel on the rack and—like good prey—made for the huntsman.

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Jin rose from the sheets as soon as he caught the sight of him. He wasted no time to meet Hwoarang by the bed and pull him into a kiss with heat that he no longer held back with. His unbridled passion stirred Hwoarang's own, and he grabbed Jin by the waist. Their lips melted together, and Hwoarang pulled the toned body tightly against his own.

It didn't take a flash for Jin to notice Hwoarang was as hard as rock. Smiling into the kiss, Jin started backing down and leading Hwoarang to the bedside. Engaged in quick, playful kisses that made their lips come apart with smacking sounds, Jin pried the hem of Hwoarang's top out of his pants and tucked the shirt up. He locked lips with Hwoarang, who sucked his lower lip enthusiastically before their mouths were forced apart by his gripping the shirt and pushing it over Hwoarang's head. Hwoarang flung his head upward again, and the red bangs of hair flung onto his face for a flicker, making him devilishly handsome. His grin was temptingly Mephistophelean, too, when he released his arm from around Jin's waist and pushed lightly at his stomach. Jin seated himself on the bed.

Jin closed his eyes in thought before fixing a steadfast gaze up at Hwoarang. The corners of his lips curled almost imperceptibly as he felt a hand along Hwoarang's fly. His fingers touched more than fabric, and the groan he received as he fondled the Korean with the palm of his hand through the pants was music to his ears. Looking sly, he went on to unbutton and unzip Hwoarang's pants. "Nice and snug," he murmured at the sight of the close-fitting underwear, stretching the fabric in earnest. He pushed the pants out of his way and gave Hwoarang's rod a loving caress through the fabric while maintaining steady eye contact.

Wordlessly, he guided Hwoarang to come down and lie on the bed. He only made a quick visit to crawl over Hwoarang, resting their bodies in an embrace for a moment, as he reached for a colorful foil package. He looked down at Hwoarang with a ghost of a smirk, and Hwoarang responded by pushing their crotches together. Jin grunted and his eyes lost focus for a moment.

"Don't take all night." Hwoarang's voice was husky. He was growing impatient. "And get rid of this," he said and tugged at Jin's shirt.

Gallant, Jin pushed himself up from the mattress and straddled Hwoarang. Sitting straight on Hwoarang's prominent bulge, he made a show of removing his shirt.

"Nice," Hwoarang said warmly as he ran his fingertips over the curves of Jin's stomach. The sweet, agonizing pressure prompted him to buck his hips up quite innocently. _Hurry up._ Though loose, Jin's slacks weren't that loose; it showed even through the dark fabric that he wasn't the only one aching. Lips covered his briefly, and then Jin backed down and lodged himself between his legs. He was still giving that dark non-smile of his that made Hwoarang's length twitch in need. "Hurry up."

Jin's eyes were locked onto Hwoarang's as he leaned down and gave the redhead's aching member a kiss through the fabric. "What's the magic word?"

"**NOW**."

They snickered on the beat, and Jin was still chuckling when he pulled Hwoarang's underwear down and revealed him in all of his glory. The underpants remained latched on Hwoarang's upper thighs as Jin reached for his member and gave it an experimental stroke, pleased when Hwoarang rewarded his efforts with a low mumble.

Satisfied, a few strokes later, Jin finally deemed the stage ready for the next act. He removed the foil, and a faint whiff of vanilla filled the air.

Hwoarang chuckled to himself. Jin Kazama did have a sense of humor, after all. Apparently, Jin didn't share the notion: he looked puzzled. "Nothing," Hwoarang said with a grin he couldn't quite hide. "It's nothing. Now, move for it." He rose on his elbows and pushed Jin on the side with his leg. The tangled pants were growing to be a nuisance, and he took a moment to tear them off and fling them on the side.

Jin gave him an admonishing look, but he went on to place the condom... and stopped, letting Hwoarang's sheathed length flop back onto his stomach. Hwoarang shot daggers at him, and only then did Jin maddeningly slowly run his tongue along the underside of Hwoarang's length. His eye contact never faltered. The tongue stopped on the rim of the penis, and Jin sunk his mouth onto Hwoarang's length immediately afterward.

"Yeah... that's it," Hwoarang murmured. Jin's tonguing him off was almost as strong an aphrodisiac as the eyes that held his unwaveringly. He was so turned on, he barely acknowledged an inquisitive finger joining the fun, and only when another one touched a delicious spot that had him panting in excitement did he realize Kazama was fast paving his way in. The merciless assault on all fronts was pushing him on the edge fast, and Jin knew it, too. Jin leaned in for another fast suck and disengaged after wrapping Hwoarang around his little finger.

Hwoarang had forgotten about the pretense; eyes bright and body on fire, it didn't matter if Jin knew how much he wanted him. He must have said something in his crazed lust because Jin stopped his skilled finger ploy and turned to look at him, really look at him. Jin flashed a smile.

Hwoarang had never seen Jin smile like that; hadn't even known Jin Kazama's genuine smile was so brilliant it blinded him, and hadn't it been for the desire washing him and leaving him feel good all over, he would have sworn he had been seeing things.

"Feel like it?" Jin's matter-of-factness broke the spell, and Hwoarang was suddenly back in the real world, but the want subsided none.

"Yeah...," Hwoarang said, surprised at how raspy his throat sounded.

Jin gave the head of Hwoarang's penis a gentle parting peck and rose on top of him. He lay on the Korean's body heavily, lips inches from his, hovering... until he leaned down and placed a suck on his collarbone. Then, in a fluid movement, Jin was up on his feet and tugging down his pants. The pants fell down on the floor, and Hwoarang caught the first, pleasing sight of the stark-naked, erect Jin Kazama.

Hwoarang took in the manscape before him. He should have known Kazama was a meticulous groomer down there, as well.

Jin raised a brow, and Hwoarang brushed his palm across Jin's erection, grinning. A faintly amused look passed Jin's face, but he controlled it quickly and snatched a bottle and another foil package off the nightstand and settled back on the bed. In front of Hwoarang, who leaned on his elbows for support, he removed the foil and snapped the cork open. He squeezed a drop inside the tip of the condom.

"Wrong side, Kazama."

Jin shook his head. "Increases sensation."

"**Really?**"

Jin nodded and rolled the condom on carefully after a couple of strokes.

"...Couldn't use that with me, could you?" Hwoarang muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Jin looked at him chidingly, but didn't comment further. His expression gave away his amusement, though. "How about giving me some room?" Hwoarang had drawn his knees up and rested them close to each other quite innocently.

Hwoarang gave an exasperated sigh and spread his thighs. They were just flirting now.

Jin was playing with the bottle again, coating himself, and then the fingers darted over to Hwoarang, slick and cool. He hadn't even realized Jin hadn't been using any until now, but as fingers dared a little further than necessary, he could tell the difference. He writhed a little.

"Sorry. It's a little cold," Jin said, not sounding sorry at all.

"That's all right. Just don't be cheap on the stuff," Hwoarang retorted. He feared his voice would give away that the torturous, slow games were starting to play on his nerves, and he exhaled deeply, willing to ease the muscles that had tensed up.

Jin leaned over to kiss him, making their sheathed rods rub against one another, and Hwoarang's hands wrapped in the back of Jin's neck and on his back just briefly just as the bottle clunked on the carpet. Then Jin was up again, and heat already pearled on his brow when he braced himself into a position. He looked at Hwoarang.

Hwoarang stared back at Jin.

Jin raised a brow.

"Fine," Hwoarang said like he were doing a favor and raised a leg to rest up on Jin's shoulder. Jin looked at him sternly, and he went on lift the other leg but paused midway to wrap it around Jin's midriff, and lifted his hips to better accommodate the blanket Jin had garnered under his backside. Throughout the exchange, they shared the same, knowing look.

"Want that off?" Jin asked and touched a fingertip to the sheath that still remained in place on Hwoarang.

"Chrissakes, Kazama! If you don't move now—" Hwoarang started before cursing himself. _That round went to Kazama_.

With a self-congratulatory grin, Jin obliged.

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Hwoarang wasn't really sure how Jin had persuaded him to bite the pillow, but here he found himself, secured under Jin's body and simultaneously filled by him.

"Is it okay?" Jin murmured to the nape of his neck. For that moment, his thrusts slowed down and gentled, languid and teasing, like he was probing gently just to let Hwoarang know he was there. Jin braced against the sheets with one hand and leaned down to lavish Hwoarang's shoulders with slow kisses. He planted a lingering kiss between Hwoarang's shoulder blades. It wasn't the first time in the evening, either. While Jin supported himself on one hand, he caressed Hwoarang's sides with the palm of his other hand.

It felt great, truth be told; the only problem was, he couldn't touch himself, and he was too flat against the sheets for Jin to give him a hand. And yet...

"Don't stop," Hwoarang gasped.

...

"Where's that damn bottle," Jin mumbled.

Hwoarang moaned; _damn, that hit deep!_ He could feel his pelvis grind onto the mattress at the force of the thrust. The very moment, Jin peaked. The trembles ran through his body so strongly Hwoarang shared his ecstasy with nearly equal force.

Jin slumped against him and lay flat against his back in full-body contact, his body heated. "Sorry," he mumbled eventually and attempted to lift his weight off Hwoarang. He coaxed the redhead to flip on his side and fumbled with their limbs to give him enough room to remain seated inside. A little awkwardly, arm pressing against Hwoarang's leg, he reached over and took Hwoarang's length in his hand. "Still hard?" His voice resonated in surprised delight right at Hwoarang's ear. He reached for a better squeeze, and Hwoarang backed up tight against him, allowing Jin to finish him off with his hand.

They remained snuggled together, back to chest. Jin pulled out and took a moment to dispose of the trash, but he moved back to bed right after and scooped Hwoarang over to himself, and they returned to the close embrace.

Eventually, Hwoarang left the embrace and flung his feet over the edge of the bed. He felt a warm hand follow down his spine and turned to look at Jin.

"I don't suppose you wanna to spend the night?" Jin asked.

Hwoarang turned away with a wan look on his face. He could tell from the tone that the invitation was sincere and not one extended because Jin felt obliged. "I can't. I have to get ready." Hwoarang turned to look at the travel radio on the nightstand. It was nearly three in the morning. _Damn..._ They had taken their time. He bent down and started looking at the floor for his underwear and any other items of his. He didn't miss the hand that still caressed his back, and he appreciated it silently. He excused himself to the bathroom.

"You're welcome to the shower," Jin said, surprised when Hwoarang returned shortly.

"I should get going... I'll go when I get to my place." Hwoarang made a face and started gathering his clothes under Jin's watchful gaze. He got the pants on and started looking for the socks that he hadn't realized having removed. He was down to tucking a shirt into his pants when his motions slowed down. "It's not going to change anything, is it? Tomorrow?" he asked in a quiet voice and concentrated on fixing the zipper, which had worked fine a moment ago.

Jin raised himself on an elbow. The sheets covered his lower body as he looked at Hwoarang. Yet, as Hwoarang met his eyes, it was he who averted his gaze. "I don't think so," he said softly. "Could it?"

Hwoarang's head drooped, and the downhearted look on his face mirrored Jin's tone of voice. He finished getting dressed quietly and saw from the corner of his eye Jin get up and fumble with the sheets.

"—ssake!" Jin yanked the white sheet off the entangled blanket and proceeded to wrap it around his hips. The hems of the sheet swept the ground comically, but Jin fastened the sheet determinedly and forced it to stay up on willpower. Hwoarang smirked at the lover-boy in a toga.

Jin crossed the distance between them and settled right in front of Hwoarang, just gazing at him in the eye. He tilted his head and wrapped an arm around Hwoarang's waist, and their lips met and fused perfectly. Sucking into the kiss, Hwoarang snuck his hand to the back of Jin's head to ensure that the willing mouth didn't stray too far from his. In turn, a muscular arm pulled him close, tightly enough for their bodies to grind together.

It was intense and passionate: almost like the night hadn't even happened yet. Jin finally eased his hold, and his kisses shortened and became light—shy, almost. Hwoarang mimicked his lead unconsciously. Jin planted one last kiss on Hwoarang's lips before stepping back. He brought a hand to Hwoarang's neck so lightly, Hwoarang barely felt the touch. The sensual shivers that rushed to his gut were much more substantial than the hand that brushed down his shoulder blade and onto his chest.

"It was nice," Jin said and glided a hand over his chest. Shining dark light, his eyes was just as sultry as his voice.

"Yeah...," Hwoarang murmured. He touched Jin's lips with his fingers, but withdrew his hand. It was time. He nodded a little and was moving to go, when Jin spoke again:

"Do you need money for a cab? Let me at least walk you home."

"**What the—**" Hwoarang snapped his mouth shut, but Jin was already grinning in triumph. _Damnit!_ "...You'll pay for that tomorrow."

"I know."

They exchanged good-humored looks, and then Hwoarang went on his way. The warm caress of a hand still warmed his posterior, and the image of that pure white sheet riding sinfully low on Jin's hips lingered fresh on his mind. Jin, for his part, stared long at the door after it closed, until he finally turned on his heel and sunk on the bed with a sigh.

**T.B.C.**

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**Galactic thanks** to **Gypsie** for the proofreading!

**Published** and revised September 5, 2009.


	3. The Fight Scene

Thanks for reading and for the thoughtful comments! Your reviews are treasured. **Anonymous**, thanks for your comments! I definitely appreciate the points you made. This new chapter was planned as concise from the beginning, but I understand what you mean. The note applies to all my stories—many thanks for your reviews and insight!

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**Chapter 3**  
_The Fight Scene_

A crowd was gathering steadily around the arena, bent on defying the misty weather. A group of three also lodged near the stage: Julia, Xiaoyu, and Christie had secured prime spots early on.

Julia was cold and miserable, and her head was spinning unpleasantly. In her mind, she lacked a valid excuse to be here, even if this was in the top three most-talked-about matches in the tournament. Yet here she was, seeking a conclusion. The scene she had witnessed at the club had left her compelled to attend and see Jin and Hwoarang again.

"I'm freezing," Christie said. She was jumping up and down, sending her ponytail swinging. The fur lining of her pilot jacket outlined her skin beautifully, but she seemed to find the warmth insufficient.

_Wearing something, for once..._ The stab of guilt was prompt, and Julia felt a tad more pathetic: she had descended from feeling sorry for herself to being plain petty.

"Isn't this exciting?" Unfailingly, Xiao's spirits were sky-high. "Don't be a party trooper!"

"It's—" Julia tried, but then she gave up: Xiaoyu's attention was already on the arena. _Fine._ She'd be a party _trooper_._ Hip, hip, hooray._ _Little flags flung on sticks._ Julia looked around tiredly, but she had either Christie's bouncing or Xiaoyu's buoyancy to face. The latter was especially suspicious. "How can you be so energetic? You had more to drink than I did!" Instantly, Julia winced. Her head didn't appreciate the loud voice, even when it came from her.

Xiaoyu gaped, but then she awarded Julia an understanding look. "You shouldn't have drunk so much," she said sympathetically.

Images of violence flashed before Julia's eyes.

"Or you shouldn't have drunk alcohol. You should have taken soda, like me. I feel great!"

"_Soda, like you...?"_

"Yes. I only took alcohol for you. I'm not old enough to drink, remember?" Xiao said and turned excitedly to follow the proceedings in the arena.

Julia really hated that girl at times. She gave a loud sigh; it was all her fault. Her eyes wandered to the arena.

Jin and Hwoarang were already there. Hwoarang shone in the snow-white uniform of his chosen martial art, Jin in the jet-black equivalent of his. Both stood tall and proud, emanating confidence. The word to describe either of them was the same: striking.

Hwoarang strolled around the arena self-assuredly. He measured the audience with his eyes and dared their taunts boldly. None would rise to the challenge to cause trouble, and he knew it. Jin stood on the spot, deep in thought, meditating and preparing himself mentally. Only when he had journeyed the trek through his mind did he raise his head, dark gaze sharp and fists readied in a kata.

All eyes were on them, and they throve on it. As Julia observed them silently, she detected no trace of the night at the club on them. Had it all been her head? Jin and Hwoarang showed no signs of having been involved. Perhaps... it had been just play? Power play? Men did that. These two could have done that...

Julia really wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. Maybe she had dreamed it. As she saw Hwoarang saunter over to Jin and bark something, and Jin, in turn, stand straighter as though offended, he couldn't believe these were the two whom she had seen leave the club together.

"What do you think will happen?" she asked quietly and glanced over her shoulder. They hadn't told Christie—it hadn't seemed appropriate, or necessary. She saw from the corner of her eye that Christie's attentions were diverted, and she was craning her neck to see better elsewhere.

Xiao was pensive. "I don't know. It could go either way, and neither's a good loser. Jin's not a good loser. Everyone thinks he is, but he isn't—he's never had to practice. And Hwoarang... he'll never have it."

"Maybe it was just a dream last night. I mean, they are about to fight each other now..." Julia drifted off and studied the set in thought.

Over at the arena, the last preparations were taking place; the cameras were wheeled in and their angles were set. It would be any time now. Sadness washed over Julia with a surge; the night before hadn't been her imagination, and even if she had no part in the relationship, she wouldn't have wanted to see this conclusion to it. A conclusion it would be—she was sure of it.

Xiaoyu was looking at the rivalrous pair when she suddenly gasped. "They're smiling."

Julia couldn't stifle a snort. "Smiling? Jin doesn't smile. Hwoarang doesn't know how to."

"No, look."

Over at the arena, Jin and Hwoarang had eyes locked on each other. Sure as day, faint smiles were caressing their lips.

Just then, the bell rang.

**T.B.C.**

* * *

**Hearty thanks** to **Gypsie** for the proofreading!

**Published** October 23, 2009.


	4. Another Sex Scene

Thanks for clicking in!

* * *

**Chapter 4**  
_Another Sex Scene_

The rain started then. The fighters froze into place, and before their eyes, the drizzly mist developed into an impending monsoon. The filming crew began hurling the cameras away, and the match stopped before it had had a chance to start. Jin and Hwoarang remained stationary for a stunned moment until, in one mind, they made for a cover.

* * *

Hwoarang sneezed and pulled the towel more securely around his shoulders. He leaned against the locker, dismayed, and decided that leaning back wasn't any more interesting than sitting up. The damp uniform was unpleasant to wear, but there was no word on the continuation yet. He pried an eye open and found Jin scanning him from the opposite bench. He gave a look, which Jin readily reciprocated. He closed his eyes, but not before he saw Jin still eyeing him with interest and lingering satisfaction.

Hwoarang rested his eyes and let his mind wander off to more pleasant things. He could still feel Jin looking; Kazama had a presence that couldn't be ignored. If he wanted to look, he was welcome to it. Hwoarang's lips curved. "This is fun."

Jin deliberated. "Are we having fun yet?"

Hwoarang laughed.

Jin deemed the dialogical connection opened. "Did you get back okay?"

On cue, Hwoarang yawned heartily. The depth of his fatigue, as it crept out into the open, caught him by surprise and came to Jin's guilty acknowledgement. "Not too bad. Got to bed around five." That was bad, and Jin's expression said the same.

"How many times did you get lost?"

Hwoarang cracked an eye open. "Who says I got lost?"

"How many times?"

"Who says?"

"How manyy...?" Jin prompted.

"...Three. And give it a rest. You guys don't do great on the street signs."

"True," Jin admitted, though he didn't sound very apologetic. He was still smirking and eyeing Hwoarang with that meaningful look.

"Took four cans of energy drink this morning. Speaking of which—" Hwoarang made a face, "—excuse me." He stalked off. Upon return, he took a seat beside Jin, so close that Jin had to move to give him room. Hwoarang smirked at Jin's reproving look before they both loosened up, thighs brushing, and resumed waiting.

Their camaraderie was interrupted when the officials finally came to discuss the proceedings. The match had been called off until the weather cleared and they could set up another stage. They had two alternatives to offer: either Moonlit Wilderness by the evening or Burning Temple the next day. "It's going to be either the castle stage or the fire stage. You can go home until we give you a call which."

The coast was clear. Hwoarang slapped his thighs and jumped to his feet. "I guess that's it, then. Time to go home." He actually felt a little dazed. He stood stupidly before snapping back to attention. It still felt wrong: like he had been cheated out of something. Hwoarang unzipped the bag and reached to collect his possessions.

Jin had risen as well. "You could come with me."

The offer was pleasing, but Hwoarang shook his head. "I need a shower."

"I have a shower," Jin breathed, so close that his body heat prickled Hwoarang's skin.

Hwoarang smiled to himself, but he wasn't distracted from his packing. "I wanna sleep, Kazama."

"You can sleep if you want to," Jin said in a persuasive tone of voice.

_Damn._ Kazama must really want him to come, to make concessions like this. Hwoarang pushed the towel on top of the pile, zipped the bag shut, and inclined his head to Jin, who stood impossibly close, striking and inviting.

"So...?"

_"Sure."_

* * *

Jin's room felt almost like home when they returned. Hwoarang settled in easily, but he was determined to get some rest, despite the hints Jin was dropping. He wasn't able to dodge a joint shower, though, and there Jin was, solidly attached to his backside and obviously interested while the water was running.

"I want to sleep," Hwoarang said patiently as he removed Jin's hands determinedly.

"Not even a little?" Jin sounded disappointed.

"No."

Jin placed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

"No."

Appropriate though Jin's overtures were, Hwoarang refused to be swayed. He threw on a clean pair of tracksuit pants and settled to bed, and Jin had to relent. Hwoarang was already in and clearly where he was planning to be. He could've easily accused Jin of trying to take his life force away before the match, but also Jin seemed to welcome the sleep, even if it wasn't correct of him to admit as much. With the decision made for him, though...

As they went to bed, Jin snuggled tightly against Hwoarang's back and wrapped his arms around him. Hwoarang was too tired to push him off—didn't want to, truthfully—and he allowed himself to be held.

* * *

The cell ringing woke them both. It was Jin's—something that would be a little sour to Hwoarang on a later recollection. Jin listened attentively.

"It's been postponed. Fire stage, tomorrow," he said first thing, as the call finished.

Before they could say anything, Hwoarang's phone rang. Hwoarang took his call with the similar content, as they exchanged smirks and tried not snicker out loud. They flipped the phones aside and threw themselves on the bed.

"So... that means we have lots of time," Jin courted as he let his gaze roam over Hwoarang. He had bedroom eyes.

"It does," Hwoarang said, not quite able to stack the gratified sigh as Jin ran his lips along his neck. He wouldn't have been able to say more, either, as Jin brushed his lips along his jaw before latching onto his mouth, stealing a kiss, definitely starting something. He could see the trajectory Jin's mind was taking: the hand that had been resting on his chest was now sliding a steady course down.

Jin nodded off the bed, smiling faintly. "Wanna do it on the table?"

_A vision flashed in Hwoarang's mind: he, sprawled on the table, legs on Jin's shoulders. Jin, standing... _Laughing inwardly, he exercised a little craft and pinned Jin on his back. "Hell, no. And this time, I'm topping." Hwoarang lowered himself down for a kiss.

* * *

"Not... what... I... meant," Hwoarang said between groans. That was how much he was enjoying the topping. He ceased movement, stretching out, and flung his head backward. The faint sheen glistened on his abdominal muscles. He supported himself on his hands, which meant Jin had a good view up his washboard stomach. Judging by the look on Jin's face, the full view pleased him very well. When Hwoarang raised his head back up, Jin quirked up a corner of his mouth.

Jin held onto his thighs, spurring him on. "Chop chop."

"Chop chop, he says," Hwoarang muttered. _The nerve!_ He pondered for a moment whether he should protest against the treatment he was getting, but decided against it. He pulled himself up, kneeling, and placed hands on both sides of Jin's head. Jin raised his legs a little. Smirks were thrown back and forth as their eyes locked. Hwoarang hunched down, and Jin craned his neck until their lips touched together. Hwoarang pulled back up and took an experimental jump. His expression grew delighted. "Bouncy."

Jin was merely amused until his eyes shot open. "GOOD muscles."

Hwoarang grinned. "Thanks."

He planned to comply with Jin's obvious wish and keep up, but Jin had other ideas. He bent his legs further and started to lever himself up, and after much wiggling of brows, Hwoarang allowed himself to be flipped on his back. He was sure Jin did it just to show off how good he looked. _Good-looking and coordinated. Considerate, too,_ Hwoarang mused, as a hand snagged his length and stroked it in pace, while Jin grazed his mouth with his own lightly. He was left with nothing to do but caress Jin's sides in return.

The encounter built up to a mutual satisfaction, which wasn't the end of intimate relations. Hwoarang discovered that Jin wasn't a roll-over-and-fall-dead kind of a fling. He wasn't a talker, either. He was a kisser. He just wanted to keep kissing after sex. The notion stood firmly, as Hwoarang rested drowsily while Jin was necking him, lying half on top of him. _Relentless man._ Hwoarang had to force him off the bed and urge him to take the first shower with a peck on the lips, and he took the time Jin spent in the other room for a moment of justified rest.

Jin unwrapped the towel from around his waist and ran it along his flexed muscles lazily. _Show-off._ He finished drying off by toweling the entire length of his shaft unapologetically. Jin pulled up straight, fully aware that Hwoarang had been looking and counting on it himself. "You'll stay this time?"

Hwoarang gave a small smile. "Yeah." He got ushered to the shower, but his own promise to stay warmed him long after the water ran cool.

Just as before, Jin flung the bedcovers over them both before snuggling up to him and going to sleep.

* * *

There was no visible audience to grace the fight this time; the blazing inferno was for them alone. Hwoarang craned his neck and exposed his face to the scorching heat. Jin hadn't showed up yet, but he was sure Kazama was just pushing it to make an entrance. _Show-off._ He would be here yet.

They had parted ways at dawn, despite Jin's slight reluctance, and Hwoarang had gone to his place to change for the match. Truthfully, he also needed to come up for air before facing Jin. He had to muster some hate for the man to fight against him—at least enough to have the match. Hwoarang closed his eyes and basked in the heat. The heat wasn't imaginary.

The flames warmed him pleasantly, until their heat turned scorching. Hwoarang knew before looking what had brought on the change. "You're here."

"So are you," Jin said softly. He was stating fact, but he had the same undertone: like he had wanted to believe, until the last minute, that this could yet be avoided.

Hwoarang nodded to himself. _So I am._ It wasn't a surprise any more than Jin being there was. Like they could have stayed out. The only thing that remained was to make the best of it. Hwoarang abandoned meditating on the torch and flashed a smirk. "I'll take you down, Kazama."

The corner of Jin's mouth twitched, and he cocked his head. "I'm not saying it will be easy..."

_God, that voice was sexy; it was imploring and teasing at the same time._ Hwoarang gave a laugh. The understated, between-the-lines promise was that it wouldn't be easy for _Jin_ to take _him_ down. _The nerve!_ Maybe mustering the hate wasn't going to be too difficult. He pointed a gauntlet-clad fist at Jin. "Take you down."

Jin bowed his head. "It will be a challenge."

The spotlights came on with a rattle that broke their reverie; they were no longer alone. They had to stop with the flirting. The opening courtesies took over, and the mood electrified. Combat instinct took over like it was a being with a will of its own. The fire reflected in their eyes equally. The corner of Hwoarang's mouth curved; Jin responded with a non-smile. The knowing look was quick, but they both shared in it.

They would make it a match to remember.

* * *

Except it wasn't supposed to end like this. He could have taken the fight ending in a dead heat, but not this. Hwoarang pressed against his side and tried to keep his head together, but he was left fighting for breath. Damned Kazama had gotten him a good one in the ribs, and it _hurt **unbelievably** **MUCH**_.

Jin was standing next to him with an almost sympathetic look in his eyes. He hadn't escaped by a mile, but he was the one standing. Hwoarang struggled up, but his body refused to cooperate. Gritting his teeth, Hwoarang managed to pull himself together to bark a few words, but that was it; the fight was over, and he wasn't the victor.

The winner's duties were calling Jin away, and he followed the call. Hwoarang fought the agony, but he couldn't push himself up. Jin halted halfway out, unexpectedly. He looked over his shoulder and hesitated. "I will be back," he said, but Hwoarang had trouble following; he couldn't understand the words. The ground was spinning.

He struggled up. He wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction. He wasn't going to pass out. He wasn't going to lose consciousness...

That was Hwoarang's last thought before he slumped on the ground.

**T.B.C.**

* * *

**Sublime thanks** to **Gypsie** for the proofreading!

**Published** August 31, 2010.


	5. The Epilogue

**Chapter 5**  
_The Epilogue_

"I wasn't sure you'd come."

Jin had great respect for the virtues of silence, but the morose Hwoarang was getting too much. Hwoarang had responded to his greeting by pushing him aside—hard—and storming into the apartment he had never been in. He had accepted the food and eaten it hatefully and then managed to make it through the day without saying much besides a sizzle. Now, the storm was brewing in Jin's living room after a lonesome shower and a locked door to make sure the shower stayed that way. Jin's shower, respectively, had been lonely despite the unlocked door. Really, how long could Hwoarang stay mad?

Jin winced as he ventured into the living room.

The storm took residence in an armchair that had been dragged as far as possible from the door. Rooted firmly in his spot, the storm was, nonetheless, wearing the bathrobe Jin had offered. Jin took in Hwoarang's posture . . . and wrapped his own bathrobe on tighter, wistfully. He sidled up to Hwoarang, who refused to acknowledge his presence. Jin placed his hands on Hwoarang's shoulders lightly; they were shrugged off vehemently. Sighing, Jin came crouching on his side and flung an arm around the backrest. It was close enough to touch Hwoarang, but it wasn't really touching him. By all civil measures, Hwoarang was cornered.

Hwoarang drew the same conclusion. He was about to shoot a hateful look, but then realized that it would lead to them making eye contact. He crossed his arms.

Jin scooted closer. "Don't be this way."

Something flickered in Hwoarang's eye; the corner of his mouth moved, but it settled back into a frown before any other substantial expression formed.

Jin pressed closer and murmured into Hwoarang's ear, "I know you let me win..."

_Checkmate. _

Hwoarang couldn't find way a retort, and he was halfway furious, halfway into accepting Jin to his good graces. Jin made the decision for him: he let his hand drop from the backrest onto Hwoarang's shoulders. He slinked nearer until he was finally close enough to touch his lips on Hwoarang's. He was permitted to stay there, and made for a more determined kiss, hugging Hwoarang to himself at the same time. He released Hwoarang and cocked his head entreatingly.

"That hurt, you bastard," Hwoarang said sulkily.

"I'm sorry."

"You could've broken something."

"I didn't _mean_ to..."

Hwoarang let out a strangulated snort.

Jin gave him a breather before reaching over again; this time, Hwoarang responded to the kiss. The response wasn't burning at first, but quickly burgeoned: Hwoarang brought an arm around Jin's neck and grabbed a hold of his robe. Pleased, Jin delineated Hwoarang's mouth attentively. He was let go reluctantly, which bode well for the future.

The post-fight discussion had been covered in sufficient detail, Jin deemed, and he progressed to crouch by Hwoarang's side again. The reconciliation efforts were allowed to continue. Jin placed a quick peck behind Hwoarang's ear, which turned out to be a low blow; ticklish or pleased, Hwoarang kept his composure only with effort. Jin reached a hand over Hwoarang and cupped the other side of Hwoarang's face gently; circulating a thumb across Hwoarang's cheek, his other fingers caressed ovals around Hwoarang's neck, light as a zephyr. Jin pressed his lips to Hwoarang's cheek.

The harshness on Hwoarang's face ebbed away. By the time Hwoarang was craning his neck toward Jin—willingly, this time—Jin had found the flip of his bathrobe and was on his way to easing the bathrobe off. When no protest came, Jin slipped a hand in, feeling the muscles. He stopped to hold his hand over Hwoarang's heart as he drew kisses from the man.

Jin traced down Hwoarang's robe to the knot of his belt and untied it with skillful fingers. Jin rested a hand on Hwoarang's knee and brushed it along his inner thigh. His touch was light enough to merely create an illusion of trailing all the way up. Hwoarang sat back more comfortably.

Jin returned to his chest, tugging a line down to pry the bathrobe open. The top of the bathrobe hung by a thread on Hwoarang's shoulders, but Jin continued his way down with a chuckle and played with the belt ends. The robe loosened further surreptitiously. It fell open and revealed Hwoarang's chest as Jin went down. Jin reached his mark, and Hwoarang let out a guttural "rhmph" as Jin slowly began fondling him.

* * *

He was still Earth-bound, even though Kazama had sent him around the orbit. At this precise moment, he was in Jin's bed—his real bed, this time.

Jin was asking if he'd come around for a while, and he had to concentrate on keeping his face reactionless to keep the look of triumph off Jin's... and he slipped because he fell into thinking what it would be like, as Jin's treasured trophy, and found the thought whimsically droll. That wasn't what Jin was suggesting, though, and he needed his head to hide how the offer of equal partnership affected him. There was chemistry that corroded his guard. He held his answer before drawling out one.

His guard failed; he flashed a quick smile and almost thought it worth his while when seeing Jin's look. He couldn't promise forever, but he could promise fractions of eternity.

**THE END**

* * *

**Concluding Notes**

**Many thanks** to all who reviewed this story: **Razer Athane**, **191026**, **CrazyCartSalad**, **Ck** (best review ever, thanks!), **LoZenYa**, **HOIME G**, **Dechuu**, **HappyMe-O**, **Anonymous**, **XNightLadyX**, **Merriadoc**, **Darial Kuznetsova**, **Lil' Miss Spookiness**, **machao**, **cardboredbox**, **HaruHaruGD**, **Zairal**, **Another-of-Me**, **Munelyte**, and **xCamilleon**! Thanks for the other pleasant interest as well.

**Decidedly grateful thanks** to **Gypsie** for proofreading the entire story!

**Published** September 23, 2010.


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